Goodbye, blue sky
by Fearless miko
Summary: Tragedy strikes Sarah's life. Who does she turn to when she's lost everyone else?
1. Pilot

Sarah stared through the foggy window pane of her apartment down onto the desolate streets of her neighborhood, her forehead resting haphazardly against the glass. Little droplets of water glittered, reflecting the light of the street lamps below and sending refracted rainbows against the haunted walls of the dark room.

What little view she had not entirely obscured by the condensation left by the cold storm brewing outside was blurred by eyes full of tears, the images of neighboring houses, street signs and lights morphed across the expanse of her vision as she felt another wave of hallow heartbreak wash over her.

She exhaled shakily, her hot breath creating a round, foggy imprint on the glass as her throat threatened to close off entirely with the lump that had grown there.

The flesh of her cheeks stung as the salty water poured once again down her face, raw from the constant weeping she had endured over the last several months. Her limbs protested her every movement, the muscles sore from disuse and constant sobbing.

Her frame had thinned from weeks of eating like a bird, only ingesting the amount of nutrition needed to keep her alive, that is, until this week.

She stopped eating almost three days ago and no longer did she suffer from the sharp hunger spells that usually prompted her to nibble a piece of bread until they subsided. It had been so long now that her mind seemed to welcome the dizziness that sometimes served to distract her from unwanted thoughts and memories.

But not today.

No, today, her mind had decided she was ready to embrace the reality of her situation. She was alone.

Her entire family-her stepmother Karen, her Dad, Robert and her little brother, Toby- were all killed in a tragic car accident five months ago.

An officer had come to her college dorm to bring her the news personally, as he was the first on the scene that evening. There was nothing anyone could do, he had said. The hit was instantaneous and they didn't suffer, probably didn't even see it coming.

Sarah vaguely remembered attending the funeral from a far away place. She had stood before the crowds of people as the last and only family member to sit at their side as the viewing had taken place. Shaking her head in acknowledgment to all the 'I'm so sorry for your loss's and 'If there's anything I can do's. Was that all anyone ever said at a funeral? Was there really anything they could do?

Her Dad and Karen's coffins had been lowered into the ground first. Watching Toby's smaller one lowered last had broken some part of her mind and she remembered vividly feeling a large part of herself die that day, as the rain did nothing to ease the pain she felt blossoming in her heart at the loss.

Her school had given her time off to grieve, though that time had run out months ago. She was sure they would reinstate her, positive even, but she couldn't bring herself to care about her studies anymore. That life was over.

She returned home to her empty house, full of empty memories. The phone rang those first few weeks constantly. Social workers just 'checking in' on her, dropping by for unexpected visits. The school wanting to know when she was coming back. After the first couple days, she unhooked the device entirely and locked the doors, ignoring the door bell when it rang.

The house and everything in it had been left to her, along with a significant life insurance policy. On top of that, the mailbox was practically overflowing with social security checks, mailed to her every month, along with her father's pension. She knew because after several months of staying holed up inside her room, the mail lady had finally started pushing them through the slip in the door, rather than the mailbox, which had long ago run out of room.

The house was silent, save for the rain and the occasional sounds of traffic. Not a single light was left on, though the sun had gone down hours ago. The thermostat had been left off, as the sound of it cutting on one night had frightened her so badly she had almost cried out in fear before realizing what had occurred.

She rose from her seat at the window, padding softly into her parents' bedroom. After fumbling around for a bit in the top shelf of the closet, she found was she was looking for and deftly slipped it into the sleeve of her dark green sweater before making her way downstairs to the living room.

She headed straight for the cabinet above the bookshelf and reached on tip toes for the dusty bottle of Rum she knew lay hidden behind a box of old cigars her father had been saving for a 'special occasion.'

Her lips nearly cracked into a slight grin at the irony of just what special occasion it would be used for instead, almost.

She sat the bottle in her lap, propping her feet up on the coffee table and cracked the lid before bringing the rim of it up to her lips and taking a rather large swill of the amber liquid. It ran like fire down her throat, pooling with warmth in her belly and relaxing her muscles as she savored the feeling, leaning her head back against the couch.

Sarah had never been much a drinker, having never appreciated the feeling it gave her nor the taste, but today she found a new respect for alcohol and could safely assume she had over looked one its best merits: liquid courage.

She felt the contents race through her bloodstream, immediately alleviating some of the pressure built up in her head as her lack of nutrition seemed to hasten the effects.

Feeling now was as good a time as any, she closed her eyes and whispered, "I wish the Goblin King would come to me, right now."

For a moment, nothing happened. The house remained silent and still, while Sarah began to wonder if maybe her memories of the Underground and the time she spent there were just an effect of her grief and an over active imagination.

That is, until there was a an overly loud clap of thunder overhead and the living room was momentarily illuminated with a blue flash of lightening.

Sarah ignored the signs, choosing to take another rather long pull of the bottle in her hand.

"Why have you summoned me here?" Came a familiar, cold voice from the shadows. His tone was accusational and incredulous, as if he were insulted by the invocation.

She chose not to look at him, fearing the worst if she did. She might just break down and cry her heart out on the spot and she couldn't have that, could she? Not when she wanted so badly to be seen as strong.

Steeling herself against her nerves, she took a deep breath. "How have you been, Jareth?"

He scoffed, harshly. "It is no concern of your's. Why don't you tell me what you want so I can get back to my kingdom and out of this...place," he spat the last word like it was poison in his mouth, looking around the room with disgust as he crossed his arms about his chest, as if he feared he might soil himself were he to touch something.

Sarah sniffed and Jareth narrowed his eyes on her darkened form sitting on the couch, unable to read her expression in the lack of light.

"Do you love me?" she asked softly, so soft he almost missed the question entirely.

He took a moment to let the words sink in before cold fury took over. Enraged, he sized her up from his place across the room and unleashed the venom he felt into his next words.

"Do _I_? Love _you_? Oh, Sarah. Poor, poor, pitiful, selfish Sarah. To ever dream that I could love a spoiled, self-centered little brat like you, you really are beyond all help. Did you actually delude yourself into thinking that I would waltz in here and confess my love for you? Offer you your dreams after you spat on my offer before? Wake up, girl! I am _over _you!" he snarled, letting all the hurt and betrayal from the last several years build up into one massive attack. He aimed to hurt and he would see it done. "I never even _think _of you, save for this one occasion where I am roused from my chambers to answer a call I am bound by own bloody magic to respond! You dare to summon _me_, to ask me _that_, of all things. Just what did you think I was going to say?"

Sarah flinched as his words sunk in, cutting her to the core. Never the less, she smiled. This was what she had wanted from him, after all. She needed this last heartbreak to cut away the last thread binding her to this world and he had done what no other could for her, not even the bottle she now sat gently on the coffee table before her.

Jareth saw her grim smile and winced. Something here was not right. The Sarah he knew would have been on her feet by now, facing him head on, toe to toe. This docile, frail thing was not the stubborn, rebellious girl he remembered conquering his Labyrinth. No, he sensed there was something else going on here beneath the surface.

With a wave of his hand, the overhead lights sprang on and Jareth nearly gasped at the sight that greeted him. Her face was pale, thin and hallow. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying and he could tell she had lost a significant amount of weight even through the large sweat shirt she wore to cover it up. The smile she wore spoke of many things, none of which he ever expected to see her suffering from. She was...broken. Tears made silent tracks down her raw cheeks like a flood and he inwardly paled at the realization he'd just made a dire mistake to lash out at her in this condition.

Suddenly, all the odd things about his arrival began to fall into place and he felt an alarming trepidation. All the lights being off, none of her family being home. The pile of mail laying in the floor in front of her front door, untouched.

"Sarah..." he breathed, his initial anger immediately subsiding and was replaced with concern that bled into his voice.

Sarah felt another wave of heartache as the concern in his tone registered and she plowed through her next words as quickly as possible, fearing she would loose her nerve.

"Jareth, I just wanted to say that_...I always loved you_."

He saw it, then. Gripped in her right hand was a pistol which she brought up to her head.

He lunged across the room. "Sarah, _NO_!"

"-And I'm sorry!" she sobbed before pulling the trigger. There was a deafening crack, a swirl of magic and the house fell silent once more.


	2. Aftermath

"..._I always loved you."_

Her delicate voice still echoed in his mind, her words not registering until that moment, when he'd stopped time. Another millisecond and he knew she'd be dead.

Currently, she sat frozen on the couch with the pistol to her head, her eyes squinted shut. The bullet hung in mid air, centimeters from entering her temple.

Jareth took the moment to look her over, wondering how things had gotten this far. After removing the bullet and gun, casting it across the room as if it had burned him, he strode over to the pile of mail in front of the door looking for some clue as to what happened to bring this strong willed girl to such ruin.

Finding nothing of significance to him, his eyes scanned the room, landing on a pile of documents left sitting on the kitchen counter. He discarded the mail to its prior resting place and picked it up instead, reading the first line: 'The last Will and Testament of one, Robert Williams.' Behind it, another that read something similar. 'The last Will and Testament of one, Karen Williams.' Behind that were three death certificates and Jareth swallowed hard as he came to the third. The large name, printed in black, bold letters, read 'Toby Williams.'

The very last document in the pile turned out to be a police report, detailing the circumstances of their death and Jareth cringed. Sarah's entire family had been killed.

According to the dates listed on the papers, it had happened three months ago. Three months and it didn't look as if she'd left the house since.

Jareth paled significantly thinking about her motives in summoning him. It seemed she knew he'd be angry with her, was counting on it, in fact, to bring her the last motivation she needed to pull the trigger. She loved him, she'd said. Moments ago, that line would have brought him a world of relief and joy. Now, following the immediate actions of those words, it seemed a hallow realization. In an effort to end her life, she wished to depart that single fact to him first. It was a not a cry for help as so many suicidal tendencies were. She did not call him here in a last ditch effort to save herself. She called him here because she knew he would lash out at her and since she loved him, the pain his words brought would be enough to end everything.

He'd played right into the palm of her hand, too.

Beneath the mounting concern and confusion regarding this lost champion, Jareth's mind spun to comprehend that she loved him. Loved him enough that his anger and rejection was all she needed to snap the last tether in her will to live. A will that was as strong as his own. He tried to place himself in her position to understand better.

The only family he had remaining alive was a set of twins living high in the mountains in solitude. His parents had been buried for hundreds of years. It was difficult imagining himself on the verge of suicide if his siblings were to pass on, though he would not be without grief or mourning.

But if he were to loose all the creatures in his kingdom at once, the beings he was used to residing with every day and night for a millenia, he supposed that might do the trick.

Humans were so different from the creatures of his realm, after all. He knew Sarah's family was a close knit bunch. They had each other, that was all and they did their best to make the most of it.

Sarah had spent her whole life with these people. She was raised in this house.

Loosing her parents was one thing, being that they were adults and had lived a full life, he imagined Sarah would be able to survive had it only been them involved. But her younger brother, Toby, was only five years old. He had not lived a full life, by any standards, and Jareth imagined this to be the hardest thing for Sarah to take.

He was not without mourning for the boy, himself. Toby was supposed to be his heir, should he fail to sire one for his own line. When Sarah had run the Labyrinth, Jareth had spent a great deal of time with the then-toddler boy.

A glint of light on the kitchen table drew his attention and Jareth stared down at a metal picture frame turned upside down, hiding the face from his view. As he picked it up and stared at the images present, he felt a wave of heartache wash over him and he fought to ignore the lump in his throat.

It was a family picture with Sarah, her father and mother all crowded around Toby, who looked to be about three years old. They looked so happy together, smiling and laughing around the young, jubilant boy.

He imagined Sarah flipping the picture this way to avoid the pain of seeing her deceased family and sighed.

He'd had enough. He'd be damned if he was going to leave her here like this to rot. There was nothing here for her anymore, anyways. He could offer her a new life, a new family.

Mind made up, he slipped the picture into his coat pocket and gathered the fragile girl against his chest before disappearing with a pop.

Glitter settled slowly in the spot where he left while the sounds of outside traffic and rain suddenly resumed.

Many months later, a social worker would file for a search warrant of the William's home, fearing for the girl she had not heard from in several months. Her school had not heard back from her since the funeral and her neighbors had not seen her leave the house.

The police would break down the door to her home to find it completely empty with her car still in the driveway.

A missing person's report would be filed and subsequently closed when no information regarding her whereabouts could be found.

Sarah Williams would be presumed dead nine months later while the money from their house, insurance policy, social security and pension would be filed into a charity, as per the Last Will and Testament of Sarah Williams left on the kitchen counter in a pile of death certificates and police reports.

She was never seen or heard from in the Aboveground again.


	3. Resolve

Jareth sat in the Throne room of his castle, his feet propped up in their usual improper way across the armrest as he thumped his black boots impatiently with a matching riding crop. His left elbow sat propped against the back of his chair while the gloved hand attached to it covered his mouth in silent contemplation.

In all the ways he had hoped Sarah would return to him, this was not one of them. In truth, his heart was broken for her. Worse, that he had hurt her in her time of need. He should have seen through her facade for what it was but he had been so blinded by incredulous resentment and pent up hostility.

In all the years since she'd conquered the Labyrinth, he had imagined her living a wonderful life without him Aboveground, never bothering to think of him or even acknowledging the potential of her feelings for him or his for her. That she lived oblivious to his struggle, to his longing, as shamed as he was to admit it. He had been forced to build a wall of ice even greater in capacity than the one he'd had before she came to run the maze and steal his heart. Why _wouldn't _he be angry with her?

But when he looked up after his rant that night at her broken smile, he suddenly lost all his conviction to be angry in that instant. He did not feel the swell of pride and closure he thought it would bring him. Instead, the hostility deflated out of him like a balloon being popped. It just fell out of him like air, drifting on the wind until all that remained was the crippling shame he felt at what he'd done and the alarm that told him he'd wounded her badly. She'd looked so much like a broken dove in that instant, her features soft and eloquent, marred only by the intense sadness and worse yet, the _resolve _she had to accept it all...to accept it and kill herself.

The silver glint of light against something she brought to her head confirmed it and he remembered feeling as though a brick had been dropped through his stomach at the sight, at the realization. Even now as he sat in his throne room with her safe and sound, sleeping in the next room, the thought made his blood run cold through his veins while his heart thumped in distress.

Probably, the worst part to him about the whole situation was the last thing she said. Or was it the best? He hated to admit it, but he couldn't suppress the swell of happiness he'd felt as the realization that she loved him sunk in. Despite all the pain and tragedy, the unfortunate circumstances, he would see to it that something good came out the whole situation.

But to know now that she did, in fact, acknowledge him, enough that his anger would be enough to give her the courage to...to...he choked on the thought. His poor Sarah. Why hadn't she summoned him before now? Why did their first meeting after that fateful night have to start like this?

Did she know how long he had suffered without her? How great the loss of her in his life was to him? He had mourned her, even. Resolved to never see her again, determined to move on with his life and not succumb, not let it defeat him forever.

Many in his kingdom would say he won that battle, the reflection of his victory lying in the stone cold, iron fist of his rule. After Sarah left, he had become ruthless and cold to his subjects. The Goblin City became more like a Goblin Penitentiary in the wake of his ire.

Only he knew what he had lost and continued to carry the hollow, nagging pain of it in his heart until last night, when he had risen to the sound of her voice on the wind, summoning him.

His heart had leapt before being frozen again, a testament to the girl's effect on him. Only his disciplined anger had managed to squash the hope he'd felt at her call, training himself to wear only the betrayal and resentment he felt like armor as he arrived in her living room.

What a pompous, arrogant fool he had been! Ignorant to her plight, blind to her pain, he had the audacity to shout at her over something that happened between them nearly five years ago! With startling clarity, he remembered how young she'd been then. Why hadn't he considered that? Was it possible that she was too young to understand what his offer had meant? The implications behind it?

With a groan, he rested his face in his hands, sighing. It was entirely possible, he realized. It was more like probable. That he'd been too stricken to acknowledge this logic before now was yet another testament to the girl's ability to turn his world upside down.

His poor, heartbroken Sarah. He would give his whole world to see her smile again, if that's what it took. He would make it up to her, no matter what. He would give her back a family and a life and do whatever it took to make her happy again.

The little ball of fire that was his beloved had dimmed to a fraction of her original size, her light nearly extinguished. It was time to give her a spark.


	4. Confrontation

Sarah woke in a soft bed, her head cradled against soft pillows. As her mind registered the silky material against her skin, panic seized her insides, driving her heart to slam against her chest expectantly as her blood pumped copious amounts of adrenaline into her veins.

She should be _dead_.

Slowly, cautiously, she lowered the blanket from shielding her line of vision and gasped her shock to the elaborate room before her.

Sunlight trickled slightly over her face as her arms pricked to the sensation of a light, cool breeze caressing her bed worn, over heated skin. She lay in a massive, four poster, circular stone bed set into gleaming, blue-gray, granite floors. Her vision swam with the color of midnight blue silk, the bedclothes she was still clinging to.

A large, round fireplace in the center of the room blazed magnificently while the entire left hand side held no wall, but an open balcony interspersed with large, cream columns. The space between them was shielded only by floor length, deep blue curtains. The fire and sunlight warred together on the sleek surface of the granite floors when the wind blew the heavy material hard enough to make it sway slightly.

The entire room had a mid evil feel to it and judging from the ornate, intricate, fantasy ascribed designs that decorated the doorknobs, candle sconces, furniture feet and other such inanimate objects, Sarah got a feeling she knew exactly where she was and the thought didn't comfort her like she had always expected it would.

Once, she would have drank in every detail about the room as if her life depended on it. She would read every single title of the old, leather-bound books atop the fireplace, she would gaze in wonder at the art presented on his walls that held dark and sinister undertones hidden beneath a main theme of delicate, feminine beauty.

She would take in all these facts, these details and she would think of Jareth, would begin to associate them with him, feeling as though she had grown closer with her new-found knowledge and understanding.

Now, they served only as a bitter reminder of all she was missing in her life, all the wonderful things she would never get to know, or do, or touch. Memories she would never make. Laughter she would never hear. Tears stung her eyes as her throat constricted with swelling emotions and her whole being felt wounded, hallow.

Her hands came up to grasp the place right beneath her breasts and she looked down warily as she always seemed to be doing lately, looking for the gaping hole that must be there. She felt it as surely as she felt the warmth of tears sliding down her cheeks.

There was no hole and her body felt full, but her hands filled with a fabric she did not recognize. She was dressed in a thin gown of white silk with a generous v cut that was a bit more revealing that was she used to, halting right under her navel. The waist was cinched in a fine, see through lace that connected the flowing skirt and top portion with the rest of the gown. The sleeves were wrist length, flowing long and belled out from the shoulders like a princess in one of the fairy tales she was always reading.

She mourned the sight, her appreciation only reminding her that the consideration was something she did not deserve. She did not feel good enough to be wearing such finery; if she had the strength to dress herself properly, she would see herself attired in something plain, cheap and dark.

Sarah was not the type to weep openly, or to have sobbing fits. When she did cry, the tears simply came while her expression became slightly somber.

Her whole body hurt, as if she'd been in a car wreck. Her muscles protested her every slight movement while her strength refused to surface to her will. The effort of turning over in bed and propping herself up against the pillow really wore her down and she actually had to catch her breath at the effort.

As she leaned back against the bedding tiredly, something caught her eye and she glanced up to find the most magnificent portrait hung against the ceiling. It was a gorgeous scene of the Labyrinth from a low angle, depicting the massive silhouette of the structure she resided in with a startling likeness and clarity. It rivaled that of a digital photograph in her world, yet the brush strokes could be seen if one were to look closely.

It was a night time portrait, speckled with an impressive likeness of a clear night sky crowned by a large crescent moon. The Labyrinth wall lined the back of the picture, the gleam of pale brick in the moonlight fading in the distance of rolling, green hills speckled with massive, ancient trees.

The trees were the type you only found in the Labyrinth, their trunks black and twisted, dusted in starlight. The sight evoked a kind of dark feeling of forbidden things in Sarah, while the silhouette of the castle crowned the picture, gleaming luminously to rival that of the hanging crescent moon above it.

It left the viewer with only the type of malevolent grandeur the Goblin King could accomplish. The piece spoke of his power, was practically dripping with his tastes. It held a masculine beauty and personality to it that left Sarah wondering if maybe the portrait was meant to depict more than just the beautiful outline of his kingdom and forests at night.

It made her think of him and the longing that accompanied that brought back his words in sick epiphany, each syllable striking her to the core.

_'Do __**I**__? Love __**you**__? Oh, Sarah. Poor, poor, pitiful, _selfish _Sarah. To ever dream that I could love a spoiled, self-centered little brat like you, you really are beyond all help.'_

Tears stung her eyes but she furiously batted them away. He was right. She was selfish and inconsiderate. She was also crazy to have believed she could ever be good enough for him.

_'Wake up, girl! I am _**over **_you! I never even _**think **_of you!'_

She held her breath, content to wait for her throat to stop constricting before even trying to get oxygen. The tears rolled down the sides of her face, pooling into the hair at her temples.

She pulled in a shaky, trembling breath through clogged nostrils. Shame, fear, anxiety, betrayal, hurt, grief, depression, loneliness, panic and despair closed around the shell of her mind as Sarah fought the attack with everything she had as her consciousness began trying to absorb the fact that Jareth didn't want her, never would and never could have.

Years of wondering. Years of thinking she had misread the signs on their last adventure, years of thinking that maybe, just maybe the Goblin King had, well...fallen in love with the girl. Her heart had leapt each time with the thought, elated with the feeling of hope.

Her dreams were structured around this place, this world, this fantasy that she had longed for. But that was all it was: a fantasy. She could never become apart of this world and its creatures, would never be accepted as apart of a family again.

Deep inside, an intricate core of Sarah cried out in despair as apart of her soul felt under attack, tortured by the sharp blades of self-loathing, grief and pain. The realization that she would never truly love or be loved again cleaved the predominant character that made her who she was and she felt the foundations of herself cracking against the force of the siege, bits of her personality slowly breaking away.

She was at war with herself. Ever vigilantly prepared to face reality, refusing to delude herself, she forced her mind to face the fate before her, to face the truth of her reality. The soft, caring, kind part of Sarah suffered, screaming in agony as the wicked and cruel part of her nature tortured her other half, forcing her to see and accept the truth with a ruthless, cruel determination.

_'They are all gone. Your family is all dead, all of them, every last one. Even your baby brother Toby is six feet under, rotting beneath the ground, his flesh succumbing to worms, ants and other parasites of the earth.. You will never see them again. And Jareth doesn't love you, he can barely tolerate you. Do yourself a favor and stop deluding us with nonsense!'_

Her happiness and hope bled from a thousand wounds and she gave one last, desperate cry of despair, the sharp sound ringing off the walls of her room, for the life force of who she was ebbing away as she lay helpless to stop it.

Another wave of agony left everything in its wake scattered to dust as the emotional struggle faded from Sarah's face along with her tears.

Her expression fell, the impact leaving behind a hallow countenance that rivaled that of a gaping void. The light in her eyes dimmed, her pupils unfocused and uncaring to the sights before her. A wonderful numb sensation filled her heart, giving her mind the ease it needed to think through her situation.

The massive, wooden doors to her room suddenly slammed open, colliding with the receiving walls from the force behind them. They revealed the Goblin King in all his regal, imposing stature, his expression a strange mixture of concern and fury.

He was dressed in knee high boots, a black vest and white, silk poet's shirt. His breeches were skin tight and black as well, matching a pair sleek gloves that hugged every digit, thin enough to reveal the line of his knuckles.

His medallion hung low against bare flesh, providing a hint of his Adonis-sculpted body.

Sarah cursed her body's reaction. She truly was pathetic.

They stood there in perfect silence for a moment, each regarding the other in a quiet, significant, very awkward moment of reflection.

Jareth tried not to outwardly wince at her unflinching, vacant stare while Sarah reminded herself that she was imposing on his hospitality in a big way. Both floundered for words and failed.

Finally, he broke the silence by clearing his throat, beginning in a soft, careful tone. "I thought I heard you...that is to say that... I..." he broke off with a dejected sigh, feeling like an ass. He fixed her with a quiet, expectant look. "Are you quite well?"

Sarah got the message loud and clear. She nodded curtly, her eyes downcast. Her words were short and directly to the point. "I am fine, thank you. I am sorry to have hindered you. It won't happen again. If you will just allow to me to regain some strength, I should be out of your hair in a few days."

Jareth felt another pang in his heart. She thought herself a hindrance. This would not do.

He narrowed his eyes and strode forward purposefully. She drowned in his mis-matched eyes, accented by devilishly upraised eyebrows. Reveled in the sound of his boots walking across the granite floors, steadily growing louder and louder until he stood next to her bed, looking down on her with a soft expression that made her heart race.

She made to sit up but stopped at his outstretched hand. "Don't," he said softly, the one word acting as both a command and a plea. He knelt to one knee, bringing himself to her eye level and took her hand in his own gloved pair. "Oh Sarah, precious, please forgive me. I acted like an ass. I said such terrible things-"

"Don't trouble yourself, Jareth," she interjected with a sigh, closing her eyes to his piercing gaze, trying to ignore the way her hand fit perfectly in his and how his leather-clad thumb kept stroking the back of her hand affectionately. "I know how you feel. I realize that you might feel bad about that now and that is entirely my fault. It really wasn't fair to put you in that situation. I never should have dragged you into it in the first place. A person has a right to their feelings and no one should ever make you feel bad for it no matter how they feel in turn. So, don't apologize. I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry."

Sarah was aware of a soft indention in the bedding, signaling that Jareth had sat down next to her and opened her eyes. He was leaning over her, gazing at her with a serious and critical eye, as if trying to discern how she felt from every slight change in her expression.

"Tell me, precious," he whispered huskily, his face softening. "Was it true what you said...in the end?" he worded carefully, trying his best not to upset her.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the question, her brow furrowing. The tears sprang to her eyes despite her attempts to calm herself and she sniffed, feeling very much overwhelmed by what she would have to say.

"Look at me," he whispered. She opened her emerald eyes obediently, tears spilling over her cheeks as the dam holding them back was broken. Her lips were drawn into a hard frown as she tried to subdue the wave of agony that passed over her features.

The smell of leather filled her nostrils and she felt his fingers gently slide down the side of her head, pushing back a stray lock of hair that had fallen in her face. They just as quickly withdrew to settle back to each side of her on the bed as he waited for her answer patiently.

She took a deep, steadying breath before nodding shakily.

Jareth allowed her nod of acquiesce to wash over him, solidifying what he'd taken her words to mean the night before. She loved him, she loved him, she loved him! His heart sang like a mantra.

"Then stay," he offered seriously. "Stay and become my Queen."

Sarah's eyes widened at his words for a moment before her brow narrowed dangerously.

His heart fell.

"How _dare _you make fun of me!" she accused seethingly, rolling out away from him and off the bed with a quickness he did not think her capable of given her depleted strength.

She stood, backing away from him with shaky steps of disbelief, nodding 'no' the whole way as he pursued after her. A spark of fire he knew and loved flared with her anger, lighting the light of her eyes like green flames.

"I may be a powerless, selfish, plain mortal but I'm not without feelings! How can you be so cruel?" she accused, her words cracking with the sound of her sobs as they steadily escalated.

Her back collided with a stone wall. Jareth was right before her, stalking her like a predator. His hands came to rest on both sides of her head as he leaned down to press his forehead against her's tenderly. She jumped at the sudden contact and he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Sarah, darling, how you turn my world so easily from dark to light," he purred.

Her eyes lifted to his, sparkling with a hopeful glitter, searching for confirmation. He smirked and Sarah felt her insides clench with longing.


	5. Revelations

His forehead was resting against her's, his face inches from her own, so much so that the random spikes of his multi-colored hair tickled her face, so much so that she could feel the light caress of his breath against her cheeks when he sighed with what seemed to be pleasure against her. She was captivated by a pair of mismatched blue and green eyes that stood out against dark eyebrows that pointed up at the ends, signaling the goblin royalty that flowed through his veins. Her emerald eyes deepened in their richness as she drank in his flawless skin, trailing down his features to land on the sight of his soft lips.

He was everything she had ever wanted, the only man she had ever hoped to see, to feel, to smell even, this close to her. His proximity soothed her, completed her and she reveled in the security and warmth she felt in his embrace in spite of herself. Locked in his arms as she was, the grief and pain of her family loss seemed to ebb into the background of her mind, never quite leaving her but moving out of her main focus and into her peripheral, blurring around the edges. The pain was dulled, suddenly, the sharp edges of her grief pulling away and she couldn't help the quiet sigh of relief she allowed to escape against him.

In their five years apart since meeting one another, she had slowly come to find that no soul could ever take his place. No other face, no other voice, no other hands did she long to embrace her. She always knew that one day she would cave in and summon him to her but she never dreamed she would be in a world of hurt such as what her life had become recently.

"Sarah, darling," his deep, soft voice broke her silent reverie. "How you turn my world so easily from dark to light," he purred, his chest vibrating with the use of his baritone voice, causing her to shiver slightly against him. She breathed in his scent of the summer night wind, mingling with the fresh, crisp scent of the Spring time dawn. It was magic.

Her eyes filled with hope and as the sensation filled her she was suddenly aware of how much she had lost. She felt this bright feeling fill the empty space inside herself and began to panic, knowing a positive emotion like this one could easily turn into something as devastating as the pain she had endured the past several months.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, willing the feeling to leave her as she stared back up at him, her resolve hardening. Her gaze turned suspicious as her heart slammed shut, trying to hide the disappointment she felt. She would not become vulnerable so easily.

"Nice try," she hissed seethingly, ripping herself away from him to stand to the side. "I am no fool! I will not be seduced and tricked into becoming your slave!"

Jareth drew back in surprise at the accusation. How quickly she could go from near complacent to feral aggression. He was astounded at the amount of miscommunication and misunderstanding between them. It hurt to know she didn't trust him, but he had to do something to make her understand.

"I'm not falling for your tricks, Jareth," she continued with a glare. "You've made your feelings perfectly clear to me and I have accepted them for what they are. _What's said is said,_" she threw his own words back in his face and he winced at their sharpness, regret staining the edges of his countenance.

Sarah gave pause as his expression fell somber. He did not look angry as she had expected and he wasn't trying to boast of his power and confidence. Instead, he looked at her with an expression she had never seen him don before. Hurt, disappointment and determination warred with each other across his features and as he shook his head and held his hand out to her, one expression prevailed. Hope.

Hand still outstretched, he kneeled before her to one knee and placed his other gloved hand over his heart as those wonderful, captivating eyes filled with longing.

"Please, Sarah," he pleaded, his words soft. "I admit I have acted like a fool. I was angry and hurt. I thought you had refused my offers of affection and I felt betrayed. I spent five years wondering if you wanted me the way I wanted you. I wanted to hurt you when you called to me and I said whatever I thought would accomplish that.

"But I have never forgotten you or our time together and not a day goes by that I don't think of you, that I don't long to see you smile, to hear you laugh. I go to sleep every night to dream of you, I have kept you alive in my heart and mind all the time that you've been gone. Please, Sarah, make me the happiest man alive and accept my proposal. You will be my Queen, my equal, my mate. My wish is only for your happiness," he finished grandly, never leaving her eyes.

Sarah angrily tried to fight the lump that had grown in her throat as she equally tried to suppress the wall of tears forming in her eyes. There was no reason for her to feel such things, he was obviously just trying to trick her into becoming his slave. Wasn't he? Why then, did she doubt herself every time she looked at his face? At his expression?

In the five years since she had first visited the Goblin City beyond the center of the Labyrinth, she had immersed herself in the childish illusions of fantasy and the hope of her future happiness all focused around an impossible reality in which she found herself standing beside the Goblin King, his love for her reciprocated to match her own. She had always believed it would never happen but could not help indulging herself at night when she slept or in her daydreams when she should be studying. She had longed for Jareth, called out to him in her dreams, imagined his touch on her skin in her most heated fantasies. She used this world inside her mind to take her away from the tragedy and disappointment in her life. The fantasy of the Labyrinth became just that... a fantasy and not a real place with real people living in it.

So it would be easy to let herself to believe him even if she knew he was tricking her or whether she was aware he did not truly feel what he was displaying. A thousand insecurities pricked at her mind. She was mortal. She wasn't pretty. She didn't have the body. Her hair wasn't good enough. Even deeper were the bigger voices that worried over whether she would live long enough, whether she was smart enough, whether he'd want her to be mother to his children.

But the truth was, the real Jareth had offered her her dreams in the past and he was doing it again. The first time was simply to deter her from her goal of saving Toby but this time...she couldn't help it. Locking her eyes with his, there was no denying the look of raw sincerity in his gaze. He was baring his soul to her and she...

The question was, was _this_ reality? Or a world her grief-stricken mind had brought her to so she could escape? She looked down at him skeptically, then, his hand outstretched to her, his eyes boring into her's, begging, pleading she accept him. It was the picture of everything she had ever wanted to see, everything she had ever dreamed and she felt herself melting inside, unable to resist responding with her heart on her sleeves, even if he _was _a figment of her overtaxed imagination. Weren't you supposed to enjoy your dreams, after all?

She reached out and took his hand, bringing it boldly to her lips. Jareth's brow furrowed in confusion at her sudden turn of mood as she kissed his knuckles softly, her eyes filled with shimmering tears that glistened against the otherworldly green of her irises.

"Oh Jareth, it's everything I've ever wanted to hear you say," she confessed in a whisper as his face softened with her words. He rose, giving her a heated look as she continued to hold his hand to her face and he felt her tears soaking his flesh.

His other hand came up to cup her cheek tenderly as the one she was holding suddenly grasped her thumb and pulled her closer until she was pressed against his chest. Her thin, silk gown was the only barrier between them and he bit back a moan as he felt her full breasts pressed against his torso. One gloved hand supported the back of her head while his lips claimed her's tenderly.

His kiss was soft at first, slowing growing with a heated passion until she felt his tongue sweep across her bottom lip. Instinctively, she parted her own lips and released a heady moan against him as she felt him surge into her, the wet muscle eagerly exploring her mouth until they both broke away for breath.

She leaned her head against his chest as his chin came to rest on top of it, one arm wrapped around her waist while the other softly stroked the back of her head. Her heart hammered in her chest in the best of ways as her body seemed to fill with energy. The sound of his own quickened heartbeat thudded in her ears, warm and alive.

They both allowed themselves a moment, just clinging to one another and reveling in the significance of each other. Both felt relieved, overjoyed, completed, excited and neither could believe that they had waited so long after meeting each other to invoke this feeling.

"Please tell me this isn't a dream," she whispered against him. "Please tell me you're real and you aren't tricking me right now," she pleaded, her own voice breaking against her tumultuous emotions. His gloved hand stroked her head lightly, catching in her wavy, ebony strands and sending chills down her spine.

He chuckled softly against her."Precious, I am here, I am real and I can safely say that I love you more than I have ever loved anything," he confessed sincerely, his arms squeezing her a bit firmer in his grasp for emphasis.

She sighed against his chest, feeling apart of herself come alive again to stand up against her torturing wicked side, chanting _'I told you so!' _in a childish way. She gave a soft laugh and felt him smile against her and she loved the way it made her feel to know she had caused such a reaction. Her own arms wrapped around his torso and she cleaved to him, relishing every moment they stood like this. She suddenly stood in a new light, reborn and baptized as a new being, experiencing all new sensations. Her mind tried to process and accept that Jareth loved her as a reality and her heart fluttered excitedly in response, alighting her self confidence, self worth and she felt parts of herself she thought forever dead come alive.

Looking up to meet his gaze once again, her brow furrowed with need and longing as she pulled him by his collar closer. His lips closed over her's roughly this time, acknowledging her need and rising instantly to fulfill it with a passionate want. She moaned against him as his tongue entered her mouth once more and she could feel his arousal pressing against the silk between her legs through his own skin-tight breeches.

His hands were suddenly all over her, sliding down her backside to cup her cheeks as he thrust against her suggestively. His mouth was closing around the junction of her neck and shoulder, using his teeth and tongue to send chills down her back and she held him tighter in response to encourage him further, unable to part with the feelings he was bringing her.

She was aware of dizziness for a moment before she was suddenly lying on the soft, midnight blue silk of her bedclothes with Jareth settled on top of her, his lips and tongue crawling up the expanse of her neck and his pelvis grinding between her thighs. She could feel the leather calf of his boots sliding against her own legs with every thrust and she locked the back of her knees around them in her instinctual need to bring him closer.

His leather clad hands found her breasts and they slid hungrily over white silk, trailing softly down her sides and back up, then down her belly and back up to curl around her mounds until her tiny peaks hardened, poking through the thin fabric. He pulled away and she mewled her protest to the lack of contact, opening her eyes to find him pulling his gloves off and tossing them to the side.

His bare hands were on her knees suddenly and she shivered at the contact of his grip as they slid down, beneath the hem of her gown before sliding back up slowly, beneath the barrier of silk as his fingers met with her supple flesh. He gazed at her heatedly as the fabric breached her thighs, his hands sliding inward and only stopping until they rested at the sides of her sex. She writhed beneath him and gave a little cry of disappointment when they slowly began sliding back up to her knees.

He chuckled against her again, the sound only heightening her already sensitive state as those same hands descended dangerously down again, this time to brush lightly against the most private part of her. The tip of one finger softly brushed her bundle of nerves with light, expert strokes that left her gasping, uncaring of the way her knees parted with abandon, revealing herself to him fully.

His eyes drank in the sight of her sex, glistening with want. At the same moment, his head descended between her thighs and before she could protest, she felt his tongue _down there_, of all places, swirling around the mouth of her sex while his finger tips continued stroking her vulva in that oh, so delicious way. She felt her hips rising to meet the light thrusts of his tongue as he threatened to enter her mouth and she cried out, wanting it so badly her feet kicked off from the bed to meet his face.

He restrained her with strong arms, his biceps flexing at the effort to keep her legs parted and her bottom down as he gave her what she begged for and pushed his tongue deeply into her, reveling in the sweet taste of his Sarah. She hissed her delight as he fell into a slow rhythm, her hands fisting in his wild locks of hair to encourage him further as she felt herself tightening, all her energy being focused into one point within her.

"Oh yes," she cried as the pace picked up, feeling a rush of something coming closer and closer..."Oh yes, _please_ Jareth, don't stop!" she cried desperately. His fingers and tongue played her body like a well tuned instrument in the hands of a professional musician. She felt an enormous rush and cried out, her hands fisting tightly in his hair and trembling as the first wave of her orgasm washed over her, bringing with it a barrage of other waves that came in quick succession. She felt herself tighten and release before tightening again only to release, the cycle repeating until she felt drained and dizzy with pleasure and falling back into the embrace of the covers behind her in her exhaustion. Contentment reigned as he pulled away from her, bringing her gown back over her knees and lying beside her on his side.

She fought to regain her breath as she looked up at him in awe, her cheeks stained with a heated blush. "T-that...was...thank you," she managed between pants, not objecting as he pulled her to lay across his chest and proceeded to stroke the back of her head.

Jareth grinned devilishly above her, still reigning in the instinct to make her his then and there. He had to take things slow with her, had to take care not the breach the steady trust that had begun to grow between them. His magic was able to sense the purity of her aura and he knew without a doubt she had never been touched. By the time she gave herself to him she would want him like she'd never wanted another.

There was a slight knock at the door and they both turned sharply in surprise to find a small, female goblin standing in the doorway holding a tray of food and doing her very best to look anywhere but the bed they resided in. Both had forgotten completely about the door to her chambers being open the entire time. "Ah-hem," the small, female goblin coughed mildly,"Your breakfast, m'lady?"

Jareth smirked at the sight of Sarah's reddening cheeks and gestured to the female with a wave of his hand. "Over there on the vanity will be fine, Yiff. Do bring a pot of coffee up for the Lady and I to share, will you?"

Yiff placed the breakfast tray softly on the vanity and turned to bow before her King. "Of course, your majesty, right away," she responded before scampering out of the room and shutting the doors quietly behind her.

Sarah buried her face in the pillows from embarrassment and Jareth laughed at her modesty. "Come, come now, get dressed and eat," he bade her, rising from the bed and stretching. She tried unsuccessfully to avert her eyes from his obvious arousal through those skin tight breeches, but he gave no inclination that he'd noticed. He gave a lazy wave of his hand and she watched as the doors to a large wooden wardrobe housed in a corner of her room sprang open, revealing several gowns for her choosing.

She rose obediently from the bed and padded over to the wardrobe as Jareth conjured a table and chairs from thin air, choosing to lounge on the other side of her room. After choosing a gown, she looked around the room expectantly, her eyes searching.

Jareth noticed her expression and knew immediately what she looked for. He waved his hand and another door, one she hadn't noticed at all it resembled the wall so well, opened to reveal a passage way leading into another chamber.

She looked up at him gratefully and followed the narrow corridor to a large bathing room, the floor identical to the blue gray granite in the previous room. A large, round hole resided in the center of the floor filled to the brim with steaming water. Around the water was a raised platform of a dark, rich redwood that provided steps into the hot depths. A shining, silver chain hung above it and Sarah wondered what it was for as she hung the delicate gown carefully on a stone goblin hand that was set into the wall.

There were several large,almost floor length round windows over looking the bath that allowed sunlight to spill in but the glass was of a murky, blurry sort and Sarah felt confident none to could make out her form were they to look in as she could equally not see out. It reminded her strongly of moonstone, translucent and yet not clear at all, covered in a strange, white film like smoke that twisted through the material eerily. The overall color was tinged with light blue and Sarah found it in beautiful contrast against the dark gray walls and blue gray granite floors. She thought it may not be glass at all but some type of precious stone, flattened and polished to a fine shine.

A few torches lodged in the adjoining wall gave little light, held by clawed, feminine hands delicate in their appearance.

Her fingers pulled at the satin string tied around her waist and allowed the white silk of her nightgown to fall away from her. She hung it next to her new gown before taking the wooden platform up and down the steps leading into the water.

Meanwhile, Jareth lounged in her room, drinking the coffee Yiff provided and summoning a few scrolls to read over regarding his kingdom and local disputes between lords. He set out her breakfast tray on the table and summoned a bowl of fruit for himself as he waited her arrival.

Sarah lounged in the hot water, her muscles grateful for the soothing temperature. For a while, she just laid there, basking in the comfort of the bath and thinking about what had just happened between her and Jareth. One hand came up to touch her lips in recollection, remembering his kiss, their heated touches.

Her eye suddenly caught on a glimmer of light in her peripheral vision when noticed several glass bottles varying in different dark colors sitting in slots cut into the platform made from the wood around the bath. Picking up a blood red one, she shook it, finding the contents to be runny and thin like oil. She replaced it and chose a deep blue one this time and found the liquid inside to be thicker. Her fingers pried the cork off with a pop and smelt the contents curiously, moaning at the intoxicating scent of honeysuckle.

She poured the mixture into the palm of her hand to find a clear, lavender color. She decided it had to be shampoo or something close to it as she then ran her fingers through her hair, allowing her nails to scratch her scalp to wash away the sweat and dirt she had accumulated throughout the last few days.

Eying the silver chain next to her head, she swept the soap back so it wouldn't fall into her eyes and gave it a little curious tug. There was a noise above her and just as she rose her head to see what it was, she was assaulted by a wave of hot water coming from the ceiling to pour over her head.

Jareth heard her cry out in mid sip and grinned widely, knowing she had figured out what the chain was for.

Sarah cursed under her breath at her surprise. But her hair was now totally rinsed and if only she could find some conditioner... Her eyes scanned the bottles again, this time falling on a light blue one. It was situated in a slot next to the one with shampoo, so she picked it up and poured the thick contents into her hand, approving of the slippery, creamy texture. It also smelt of honeysuckle, but this one was fainter and tinged with something else. Her mind wanted to say fresh cut grass but that couldn't be it. Her fingers combed the contents through her hair and as she let it settle, she reached for another bottle, this one a warm amber. It smelt faintly of honey and she used it to lather her body, taking care to scrub every inch of herself.

She pulled the chain again, this time prepared for the torrent of water that covered her body and one more time just to be sure she had all the soap rinsed away before slowly stepping back up the steps to stand on the wooden platform once again. Her eyes surveyed the room carefully, landing on a thick, soft towel hanging on the hand of small statue of a goblin standing off to the side of the bath. The statue seemed to reaching out to her and she found it odd that she was only just then noticing it. She took it gratefully none the less and proceeded to dry herself with the cream colored material, patting her face dry.

Once her body was dry and her hair was successfully wrapped in a towel around her head, she reached again for the blood red bottle. The warm oil poured into her hands, slightly tinged with pink and she gasped her surprise to find it laced with sparkling gold dust that glittered against the sunlight. It smelled strongly of freesia with faint undertones of lavender and rose. She applied it to her body carefully, taking time to rub it in well on her legs, arms, torso and all those hard to reach places until her skin seemed to glow, catching even the faintest light coming through the murky glass.

She donned the gown of deep emerald with translucent silver lining. It was a simple form baring a v cut waistline and long, belling sleeves that hung off her shoulders. The chest pulled tight around her torso and waist before the fabric released around her hips to flow freely down to her ankles. She had chosen it for it's simple beauty but was surprised to find the prominent line of her cleavage when she looked down to inspect herself. She blushed when she thought about Jareth's reaction to that particular aspect of her attire. She found herself fearful and anticipatory in the wake of her realization that she _wanted _to make him react to her.

Jareth looked up from his scroll reading at the sound of a door opening to freeze in place at the sight before him. She was wearing a gown of deep emerald that brought out the striking green of her eyes while her hair was wet and wild, clinging to her neck and shoulders. He vaguely remembered purchasing the gown centuries ago and having it stored away in this room, should he ever find a queen to occupy it. Never did he expect it to look so beautiful as it did now, encasing the petite woman before him in radiance, elegance and grace. It was perfect for her creamy skin tone, contrasting so that she seemed to hold a lustrous glow. Her cheeks were rosy from the heat of the bath and he breathed in the combination of wonderful scents that barraged him as she walked across the room to sit at her vanity, tossing him a flirtatious smile on the way.

He pretended to resume reading his scroll, though he couldn't help the direction of his gaze as it continuously slid back in her direction and he found himself once again correcting his own actions and burying his focus back into the scroll he held in his hand.

He watched her sit in the front of the ornate mirror as if she'd done it a thousand times and couldn't help the soft smile that came to his face. She was here, right in front of him, her fingers running through her onyx strands to spread the expensive oil he had provided for her, giving it a lustrous shine and scent. Her hand immediately went for the bottom right drawer, her fingers freeing an ornate, wooden brush as if she'd known it was there all along and he couldn't help the shock he felt at her meticulous intuition. It didn't even appear that she was aware of it as she idly combed her locks until they were smooth and shining.

He was pleased with her long hair, more than glad she had decided to let it grow out. It had been long when last they had seen each other, coming to rest just below her shoulder blades then. Now, it curled around her hips with a wavy grace, still dampened from her previous shower.

She surprised him again when her hand went immediately to the top left drawer and freed several green and silver ribbons, proceeding to braid two long, loose braids that spilled down her front, halting hear her waistline.

Just as she was tying the last end off, she suddenly felt his hands gripping her shoulders from behind firmly and she closed her eyes as she leaned back against him, her arms reaching up instinctively to lock around his neck. She gave a soft tug of suggestion, pulling him slightly towards her in offering and he accepted by bending at the waist and ravenously taking her lips. Her head was tilted straight back, his hands cupping the sides of her face.

All too soon, he pulled away smirking down at her secretly and she felt a rush of adrenaline considering his possible intentions. He strode around the chair regally to stand before her vanity. His hand rested against the lid of a large, silver jewelry box carved with delicate, twisting spiral patterns of clouds, crescent moons and stars. She heard the lid being removed and she swallowed as he turned to her, holding out a long necklace with a medallion identical to his in shape, but the metals were of a lustrous dark and shimmering pale silver while the stone in the center was a miniature crystal orb, matching the shape of Jareth's magic.

She gave him a watery smile of intense awe and gratitude as she bowed her head in acceptance. He placed it gently over her head, pulling her braids through the loop so it rested soundly against her neck. It fell right between her breasts and Jareth smirked at his uncanny estimations when he'd had this necklace fashioned.

"Jareth, it's lovely," Sarah admitted lovingly, her fingers lightly stroking the crystal with reverence. Just having it on made her feel closer to him and she felt a slight tingling sensation every time her fingers ghosted over the clear stone, as if she were being enveloped in the unique signature touch of Jareth's magic. She looked up to find him with his back turned to her again, his attention on the vanity and she wondered what else he had up his sleeve. Seeing the crown that rested in his hands as he turned made her lightheaded and she couldn't help staring avidly at the silver leaves that would come to a point in the middle of her forehead to encase one marquise shaped emerald.

She was aware of the light sensation of its weight being placed carefully on her head, fitting as if it had been made for her and her alone. There was a rush of adrenaline before everything went black.

Jareth caught her in mid faint, not entirely surprised at her reaction given the way her heart had been hammering in her chest since she laid eyes on the crown in his hands. He gathered her into his arms and laid her out on her bed spread for the second time that day, not counting the night before.

He stood back and admired the picture she made. Her crown was in place, the stone reaching the middle of her forehead while the silver leaves around the band speckled the sides of her head, peaking out from random places in her midnight black hair. The emerald matched her gown exquisitely and he made a mental note to have more gowns of a similar color fashioned for her.

An overwhelming sense of peace and contentment ran through him and he responded with a deep, pleasing sigh. He felt triumphant and glorious in the wake of the preceding moments, as if he'd finally completed an impossible task set before him. His queen lay before him and all the possibilities of her presence here in the future filled him with a need and purpose like he'd never known.

And this was just the beginning.


End file.
